


all this and heaven too

by poppunkpadfoot



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester in Heaven, Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Fix-It, Love Confessions, M/M, Requited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27641876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppunkpadfoot/pseuds/poppunkpadfoot
Summary: Also Known As: I'm mad as hell and I'm not gonna take it anymoreAlso Also Known As: my attempt to fix the bullshit that was the Supernatural series finale.It happens slowly, and then all at once. Everything hurts, and Sam is crying, and he’s struggling to get out all the words he needs his brother to hear - and then he blinks, and he’s standing on a dirt road, the sky bright blue above him and the hum of crickets filling the air.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 9
Kudos: 57





	all this and heaven too

**Author's Note:**

> I stopped watching Supernatural yonks ago, but I am a naive gay clown who hopped back aboard after 15x18. Anyway the finale was bullshit, LGBTQ fans deserve better, and I'm mad as hell. Here's my attempt to channel my anger into something productive. I hope you enjoy <3
> 
>   
> (A small note: I can't find a stream online to check the dialogue, so I'm not completely sure that Bobby's first words to Dean in heaven were "About time." If you're able to confirm or to tell me what the actual line was, please hmu!)

It happens slowly, and then all at once. Everything hurts, and Sam is crying, and he’s struggling to get out all the words he needs his brother to hear - and then he blinks, and he’s standing on a dirt road, the sky bright blue above him and the hum of crickets filling the air.

“About time,” says a voice behind him.

Bobby fills him in on the changes that Jack has made - big ones, _great_ ones - and then he adds something that hits Dean right in the chest. “Cas helped.” Cas is _here_. Not stranded alone in the Empty, _here_ , here where Dean can see him, can talk to him, can tell him -

He’s not around right that moment, though- he asks Bobby, a little too breathlessly, if he knows where to find him, but Bobby just shrugs. “He’s around here somewhere,” he says. “You’ll run into ‘im sooner or later. No need to rush.”

...Bobby has a point. There really is no rush, not just because heaven is timeless or whatever but because there’s no chance that one of them will get ganked by an evil something-or-other before Dean gets to tell him that he...

Anyway, Bobby’s right, so instead of waiting around or going to search, he just gets in the Impala and he drives. It feels like the natural thing to do. It is, after all, what he always does at the end of something. It doesn’t really matter that this time there’s no next case to get to.

He cranks the music up and just… drives, drumming his hands against the steering wheel, a beam splitting his face. Sure, there’s a bit of an ache in his chest when he remembers that he won’t get to see Sammy for a while, but… he knows he’s going to be okay. Besides, it’s like Bobby said - he’ll get here eventually.

Lost in thought as he is, he almost misses the telltale sound of flapping wings - might have written it off as sounds of the road if not for the oh-so-familiar figure that has suddenly appeared in the corner of his eye.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean, somehow, manages not to slam on the brakes (not that it would matter much if he did). He pulls Baby over to the side of the road and throws her into park, so that he can turn his whole body towards the passenger seat just to see - just to make sure -

Despite the fact that Bobby had _told_ him, as soon as he arrived, that _Cas helped_ , that Cas is here, there’s still a very long moment where Dean’s not sure he can believe his eyes. Castiel looks… well, the same as always, still wearing his trenchcoat and a friggin’ tie, but there’s something about him - a brightness maybe, an ethereal sort of quality that seems to light him up from the inside, and it’s lucky that Dean’s already dead because he couldn’t breathe if he needed to.

“Hey, Cas,” he manages, and watches the corner of Cas’ mouth pull up into a small smile. He wants so badly to reach out and touch him, trace his fingers over Cas’s lips, dig his hands into his trenchcoat just to reassure himself that this is _real_ , that Cas is _here_ , but he can’t seem to move.

“I’m happy to see you,” says Cas. “Although I am sorry that it’s under these circumstances.”

“Yeah.” The word comes out weak and hoarse; Dean clears his throat, and blinks against the sudden threat of tears. “I’m happy to see you too.”

At this, Castiel seems to relax significantly, his shoulders loosening and his smile settling more fully onto his face. “I wasn’t sure you would be,” he admits, “after - after what I did. After what I told you.”

Because of course - Cas was in the Empty. He didn’t see - he doesn’t know how Dean sat on that bunker floor and sobbed so hard he thought he would break with the force, or how he drank and drank as he replayed those final moments in his head over and over again, thinking about what he should have done differently, what he should have _said_ -

“Cas -”

“I’m sorry if what I said made you uncomfortable,” Cas says, his bright blue eyes fixed steadily on Dean’s. “And I’m sorry that I did that to you. That I let the Empty take me like that. I just - I didn’t know how else to protect you. I am sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Dean replies firmly. “Cas, you saved my life, man. I mean, I guess I pretty much wasted your sacrifice, seeing as… well, here I am, but. Seriously. You don’t need to be sorry.”

There’s so much more he needs to say, but the words seem to have lodged themselves inside his chest. He’d thought them so many times, those first few days, whispered them uselessly into his pillow when he made futile attempts to sleep and wove them into the prayers he sent out that he knew no one would answer. And now Cas is here, in front of him, and he’s staring into his eyes, and he needs to - but he can’t -

“It’s me who should be apologizing to you,” he gets out eventually.

Cas frowns, quizzical, tilting his head a little in that way that Dean has always found so goddamn endearing. “For what?”

(For a lot of things, but they’ll have plenty of time to get through all of it later. They have eternity, in fact - and yet Dean is quite sure that he needs to get this particular apology out _now._ )

“For dying? Because you do not need to apologize for that, Dean.”

“No, not for dying.” (Yes for dying, but again - later.) He rubs his hands over his knees, trying to ground himself in the feeling of the rough fabric against his hands. “For letting you go without - without saying anything.”

“I did not expect you to say anything,” Castiel tries to reassure him, except that’s the goddamn _problem_ , that Dean let him go to the Empty believing that he was the only one with a confession to make.

“It’s not about expecting,” Dean says. “It’s about me having something to say, Cas. And I didn’t say it when I had the chance, and god did I regret it as soon as that portal closed.”

The air between them seems to thicken. Cas is still looking him straight in the eyes, and Dean can see it in his gaze - a little glimmer of hope.

“You have the chance now,” he points out. “What is it that you want to say?”

Maybe Dean’s stalling, or maybe he just can’t keep ignoring the distracting hum of want running through him any longer, but instead of what he needs to say, he says, “Come here.”

Slowly, almost cautiously, Castiel shifts towards him, sliding himself across the car bench until his knee bumps against Dean’s; and then Dean finally, finally reaches out and touches him, places a hand on his shoulder and swallows down the lump that appears in his throat at the confirmation that Castiel is there, solid under his fingers.

“Cas,” he says, and he slides his hand up his neck to cup his jaw, rubbing his thumb gently over the angel’s rough stubble. Castiel, for his part, has gone completely still, and when Dean’s other hand comes up to cup his face as well, he trembles like a startled rabbit. His eyes do not waver from Dean’s face.

“Dean,” he breathes, “what -”

And Dean kisses him.

It’s not a movie-moment kiss; it’s a little clumsy, and Castiel gasps into his mouth before his hands fly up to respectively clutch Dean’s forearm and tangle into his hair, but god it’s so _perfect_ , and Dean is fucking kicking himself for not realizing sooner, for not _doing something_ about it sooner. But he doesn’t dwell on that thought, because then Cas is kissing him back and pulling him even closer on the bench, and he can’t hold a coherent thought in his mind besides _Fuck yes._

He has no idea how long the kiss lasts; all he knows is that Cas pulls back far sooner than Dean would’ve liked. “Dean,” he says, sounding adorably bewildered, “ _what_ -”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” Dean huffs out a laugh, ignoring the little disapproving face that Cas makes in response to his blasphemy. “I love you too, dumbass.”

“ _Oh,_ ” Cas breathes, the wonder in his voice making Dean’s cheeks flush red, and then he’s surging forward and kissing Dean again, hands tangled into his flannel shirt and skin thrumming with grace.

There’s probably more to say, but it can wait. It’s cliche, but it’s true - they’ve got nothing but time. Besides, Dean is beyond content right here.

**Author's Note:**

> You can come rant at me on tumblr if you wanna; my url is gymclasslesbians :)


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